


Stay on Target

by kjack89



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Mindless Fluff, Nerdiness, Star Wars - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-05
Updated: 2013-10-05
Packaged: 2017-12-28 10:21:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/990903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjack89/pseuds/kjack89
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire finds out Enjolras has never seen Star Wars. Nerd fluff ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stay on Target

**Author's Note:**

> Someone requested E/R watching nerdy movies, and well, there is nothing I love more than Star Wars, so...
> 
> I own nothing. Including the significant quantities of Star Wars quotes and references.

Enjolras kissed Grantaire deeply, shifting slightly in position where they both lay on the couch in order to get a better angle for kissing him. Grantaire chuckled against his lips and pulled away for a brief second. “I love you,” he whispered, running his fingers through Enjolras’s hair.

No matter how many times he heard it, Enjolras couldn’t help but smile and blush slightly. “I know,” he replied, leaning back in, his nose brushing against Grantaire’s, but Grantaire broke their kiss a moment later.

"Who do you think you are, Han Solo?" Grantaire teased, his laugh coming out probably more breathily than he meant it to.

Enjolras frowned slightly, not understanding whatever joke Grantaire was trying to make. “Han who?” he murmured distractedly, far more concerned with getting his lips and Grantaire’s as close as possible again.

To his chagrin, Grantaire pulled away almost completely, sitting up so quickly that Enjolras barely even had time to process what was going on. “Han  _who_?” he repeated, incredulous. “What the fuck do you mean, Han who?”

Sitting up as well, Enjolras’s frown deepened. “I mean, I have no idea who you’re referring to. Is this Han guy someone that I should know?”

Grantaire stared at him as if he had grown an extra head. “You mean…you’ve never seen  _Star Wars_?” he asked, his voice cracking halfway through with what sounded like indignation and growing horror.

Enjolras stared right back at him, brow furrowed. “No, I haven’t. I mean, it’s not really my kind of thing, you know? Science fiction isn’t exactly my genre of choice. So I don’t see what the big deal is—”

"What the big deal is?" Grantaire practically yelped. "The big deal is that  _Star Wars_  is so,  _so_  much more than science fiction. Dear God, you have no idea do you?  _Star Wars_  is all about rebellion and revolution and beating the man and Jesus Christ it’s like your wet dream rolled into three films.”

"I somehow highly doubt that it’s anything like my wet dreams," Enjolras murmured in a low voice, bending to kiss Grantaire, who just shoved him away as he stood. "Where are you going?" Enjolras whined, pouting.

Grantaire barely glanced at him as he headed over to their DVD collection, running his fingers across the titles. “We are rectifying this gross oversight on your part, and immediately.”

Enjolras glanced mournfully down at his pants and his rapidly deflating boner. “But sex…” he said, pouting even more than before.

"Sex can wait until after  _Star Wars_ ,” Grantaire said firmly, popping the DVD into the DVD player before rejoining Enjolras on the couch, burrowing against him.

With a sigh, Enjolras relented, wrapping an arm around Grantaire’s shoulders. “Fine,” he grumbled, training his eyes on the TV. “I suppose it is only a few hours to wait.”

"Oh, no," Grantaire laughed, tucking his chin further into Enjolras. "We’re not having sex until we’ve watched all three movies. You’ve got six hours to wait."

* * *

 

It didn’t take long for Enjolras to settle into the movies, stroking Grantaire’s hair almost subconsciously the more absorbed he became. Though he spent most of the first movie peppering it with his interjections - “The Force? Really? That’s one of the more bullshit quasi-religion things I’ve heard” and “Wow, yes, let’s entrust the secret plans to a single droid in homes he makes it to their secret hidden base. Bravo, good job” - he was soon enraptured by the plot, caught up in rooting for the rebellion and hissing, literally in one case, at the Empire. The second movie passed in much the same way, though Enjolras scoffed at Luke’s Jedi training. “How is this helping the rebellion?” he asked, frustrated. “He should be fighting, should be doing  _something_.”

Grantaire laid a calming hand on his arm. “Cool your jets, Enj. We can’t all be Han Solos, jetting across the galaxies and taking down the bad guys.”

"Don’t even compare me to that mercenary," Enjolras snapped through gritted teeth. "He doesn’t believe in anything! I don’t understand how Leia puts up with him when it’s obvious that he doesn’t give a damn about their rebellion."

Grantaire couldn’t help but laugh at that, a full-belly guffaw that made Enjolras’s neck crick from turning to look at him. “You do realize what you’re saying, right?” he asked between laughs. “And you do realize that you literally just described our relationship?”

Enjolras seemed to freeze. “No,” he said quickly. “We’re not anything like that! You’re not nearly that opposed to our revolution! Are you?”

"I probably used to sound a lot more like Han," Grantaire said calmly, though his voice sounded a little detached. "Granted, I’ve cooled off a lot on my anti-revolution rhetoric since I started getting laid on the regular." He waggled his eyebrows at Enjolras, who just huffed and rolled his eyes. "Look…" Grantaire started before pausing, something worried flitting across his face. "I know I’m not, like, as handsome as Han Solo or anything, so I hope you don’t think I’m comparing myself to him for that reason, but he and Leia…they’re kind of a perfect couple. And is it such a bad thing to see a little bit of our relationship in that?"

Enjolras just stared at him for a long moment before pulling Grantaire against him in a crushing hug. “You are  _much_  more handsome than Han Solo,” he whispered fiercely. “And you are a better man by far than he is. And I love you.”

Though Grantaire allowed himself to be held by Enjolras for a few minutes, he eventually pulled away gently. “Don’t judge Han too harshly yet,” he said, softly. “He gets his redemption still. And not in small part because of Leia. Han wouldn’t be much of anything without Leia.”

Squeezing his hand, Enjolras leaned in, brushing a gentle kiss against Grantaire’s forehead. “You would be just as amazing without me,” he whispered. “If either of us was redeemed by the other, it was me, by you.”

Grantaire blushed and tried to wriggle away, but Enjolras held him tightly. “Anyway,” he said lightly, determinedly not looking at Enjolras, “does this mean that I cans start referring to you as Princess?”

Shaking his head slightly, Enjolras sighed. “Only if I can start calling you a stuck up, half-witted, scruffy-looking nerf herder.”

Grantaire looked at him with mock-indignation. “Who’s scruffy-looking?”

Enjolras laughed and kissed his temple. “I love you.”

"Shh, I’m trying to watch this," Grantaire said, nestling back into Enjolras’s side, and it wasn’t until almost the end of the movie, right in time with Han, that Grantaire whispered back, "I know."

* * *

 

When the fanfare sounded and the credits rolled for  _Return of the Jedi_ , Enjolras shifted against Grantaire. He had been suspiciously quiet for most of the third movie, and Grantaire twisted his head to look up at him, letting out a bark of laughter. “Are you  _crying_?” he asked.

“Don’t even start with me,” Enjolras snapped, but without any real heat to his voice. “That was emotional. They  _won_. They beat the Empire. They did everything that we’re trying to do. And if you don’t think that’s amazing…”

He trailed off, and Grantaire chuckled, tilting his head up to kiss Enjolras lightly. “You know what I think is amazing? You. You’re amazing. Are you glad I showed you the movies?”

Enjolras kissed him back. “More than glad. I mean, I can’t say it was better than sex, but…it ranks.”

“Good. Because I’ve been meaning to talk about how Les Amis are basically like the ewoks, and I’m just glad you get the reference.”

Looking at him blankly, Enjolras repeated, “Ewoks? You mean those little fuzzy teddy bear things? You think _that’s_  what Les Amis is like? The fuck is wrong with you?”

Grantaire threw his head back and laughed. “Lord, it was worth saying that just to see the look on your face.” Enjolras let out a frustrated huff and Grantaire’s smile softened. “It’s not a bad thing to be compared to the ewoks. After all, the ewoks were just a people whose land was taken over by an oppressor, and who managed to fight back with a primitive technology, battling against oppression anyway they could. Besides—” and here he kissed Enjolras again, his voice low “—we all know that the rebellion would have failed without the ewoks.”

Enjolras just looked at him for a long moment, then kissed him fiercely, twisting his hand in Grantaire’s tshirt to heave him up to meet him. “Goddamnit, that should  _not_  be sexy,” he muttered, though his dilated pupils indicated otherwise.

“I’ll say,” Grantaire chortled, though his expression was soft. “Ewoks are the antithesis of sexy.”

Smacking him lightly on the arm, Enjolras said, “It’s not the ewoks, idiot. You said that the rebellion would have failed without the ewoks, and that Les Amis are like ewoks, so, logically speaking, you think the rebellion would fail without Les Amis. And  _that_  thought is sexy.”

Grantaire laughed again, though it was a quieter laugh. “Look, I ain’t in this for your revolution—“ he started, but Enjolras cut him off by kissing him again.

“Grantaire?” Enjolras said a moment later, waiting for Grantaire to look at him. “Shut up and get in the bedroom, flyboy!” Those last words he murmured against Grantaire’s lips before he pushed him in the direction of the bedroom.

Grantaire laughed and headed to the door, pausing to look back at Enjolras, fluttering his eyelashes at him and saying flirtatiously, “Absolutely, Your Worship.”

Enjolras let out a growl that sounded more like a wookiee than a human and tore after him, barreling into Grantaire, who let out a shriek of laughter. Enjolras bit down on Grantaire’s neck just the way he liked, all while steering him into the bedroom, pushing him onto the bed. “Scoundrel,” he mouthed against Grantaire’s neck as he straddled him.

“Scoundrel?” Grantaire laughed lightly, running his hands up Enjolras’s sides, rucking his tshirt up as he went. “I like the sound of that.”


End file.
